The Great Tree Debate

I read today that Wisconsin's Alice in Dairyland will be cutting down the first official Christmas tree of the season on Nov. 21 at Cook's Traditional Tree Farm near Chippewa Falls. Hopefully Alice (Nicole Reese) will have a more enjoyable experience than we did the first time out.

Filled with dreams of fresh, fragrant boughs of pine, we loaded the car with three kids and headed up north to a Christmas tree farm; no dried out trees for us that year. About 40 miles into the trip the whining began. Only a few more miles my husband assured them. After what seemed like hours, we pulled into the parking lot only to find that hundreds of others had opted to cut their own trees also.

With a saw in hand we headed towards the sea of greenery. Every time we saw the 'perfect tree' we cringed when we found the orange claim tag that someone else had tied on the tree. Little did we know that people had stopped weeks earlier at the farm to stake their claim (during nice warm weather most likely) on the beautifully trimmed trees. With others swarming among the trees we learned quickly that tree selecting was a competitive sport. Thus my husband suggested we venture further from the crowd where the good, choice trees were.

As we trudged further and further back the good trees seemed fewer and farther between. Looking back it makes sense that the tree farmers would set up camp near the attractive trees, not the pitiful little mutants that we were finding out in the back forty. Each perspective tree failed for some reason - crooked trunk, missing branches, too fat or too skinny, too short or too tall and the list went on. WIth daylight beginning to wane and milking time drawing nearer, my husband grew less inclined to listen to the critics who had now begun to complain of cold feet and having to go to the bathroom (with scads of trees for the choosing, my youngest son argued that it wasn't necessary to make the long trek back to the porta potties in the parking lot). I would soon find out that a little extra fertlizer on a tree would have been better alternative than a child crying over his wet underoos!

"We should have just stayed home and cut down the pine tree in the front yard," our other son said. Wise enough to keep my opinions to myself at this stage of the game, I secretly believed putting together an artificial Christmas tree with 1,000 branches sounded more attractive than dealing with our little mob who was growing more restless and mutinous by the minute. After finally reaching a consensus, we dragged our tree back to the car and headed for home with our trophy bound to the roof.

At least we did this as a family. A relative (who shall remain unmentioned) tried this with his family of six kids, only the bickering was worse. When he pulled into the tree lot he cut down the first tree he saw and headed back home (that must have been a long ride).

Even though our fresh tree was a bit crooked and scraggly, it was hard to notice with the homemade ornaments made by little, eager hands. Afterall, isn't the perfect tree the one that's decorated with love?